


Imagine There's No Heaven

by Steeella



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved (Web Series), Watcher Entertainment RPF
Genre: Grief/Mourning, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, I really am sorry, John Lennon inspired this blame him instead, M/M, i cried, the song 'imagine' emotionally ruined me so here we are
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:28:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25033975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steeella/pseuds/Steeella
Summary: “What do you think happens when we die, Ryan. Really. What do you think happens?”“I mean, I’d like to think something nice. Believing in ghosts is kind my only optimistic quality, really, because I’m hoping that we don’t just... Die.”Shane nodded. “Imagine there’s no heaven,” he sang, in an almost whisper, and it gave Ryan goose bumps.
Relationships: Ryan Bergara & Shane Madej, Ryan Bergara/Shane Madej
Comments: 34
Kudos: 48





	Imagine There's No Heaven

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why I did this to myself but I did and here is the result

''Imagine there's no heaven  
It's easy if you try  
No hell below us  
Above us only sky.''

Ryan was only too familiar with the feeling of all-consuming darkness. How the smothering silence of being alone in the pitch-black grasps him by the shoulders and chokes his lungs. Ryan had nothing but his deafening heart to distract him from the fact that this horrible, dirty, darkness really would be a terrible place to die. Alone, with no one to hear his calls for help but the whispering spirits. 

“I’m sure he’s absolutely shitting himself in there.” 

And there came the voice that put all his nerves to rest. Shane, his voice with a teasing lilt to it that even from through the walls made Ryan’s fears fade away, just a little bit. 

They were filming the final episode of the season, the 'Spooktacular season finale' as they were planning to call it. Ryan had chosen an asylum for this episode, because it was a truly horrifying building even without the promise of phantom patients and nurses. Ryan could imagine it now, the ghostly outline of a long white doctors’ jacket, syringe in hand, gliding down the corridor. 

There was always a bit of a paradox, on the investigations, where Ryan desperately, desperately wanted to find evidence of the paranormal, and yet, when he was alone, it was the last thing he was wanted to see. 

When he stumbled back into the light and saw Shane’s face again, his heart leaped again, but for an entirely different reason. 

“How did you do in there, little guy?” Shane smiled. “Find any ghouls?” 

Ryan chuckled and shook his head. “No ghouls this time.” 

“This time? I think you mean- “ 

“Let me cut you off before you say, 'every time' like the fucking jackass you are.” 

They followed the rest of the crew to the room where they would be staying the night. The floorboards creaked and muttered underneath their trainers. Wind whistled through the grimy windows, making the hairs on the end of Ryan’s neck stand on end. They set up the cameras, said goodbye to the rest of the crew who were staying in the hotel opposite, and lay down in their sleeping bags on the dirty floor. 

There was a pleasant silence, where they could simply enjoy each other's company without having to say anything. 

“You know,” said Shane after a while, rolling over to face Ryan. “I know I always take the piss out of you, but I do respect you for believing in ghosts.” 

Ryan narrowed his eyes. “Why?” 

“I just think... I really respect people who have faith, you know? I’m not religious, but I respect religious people and I’ve always, kind of wished I had something like that to believe in. Some people have a god, some people have like... I don’t know, luck? Gambling, I guess. I guess our fans have this show. It’s weird to think about, but it’s something. Something they believe in.” Shane scratched his neck awkwardly. “You have ghosts, and the paranormal.” 

“I’ve never really thought of it like that,” Ryan admitted. “But I get you. I suppose believing in ghosts is like being religious, because it’s having faith in life after death.” 

Shane nodded. “And... People think I’m brave because I go into these places and fuck about you know, but that’s because there’s nothing for me to lose. You believe in this shit, and you do it anyway.” He shuffled slightly in his sleeping bag. “I guess you give me a little bit of faith too. I don’t know. Maybe it’s just admirable.” 

Pride swelled in Ryan’s heart. Raw moments between each other like these were rare, but they both cherished them greatly. “I mean... You have science and history to believe in. Something more grounding than demons.” 

Even through the darkness, Ryan could see Shane’s face split into a grin. Maybe he just knew that’s what he would be doing, because he knew Shane and his expressions more than he knew his own. “Having belief in science doesn’t count, Ryan,” he said. “That’s like having belief that the sun will rise in the morning-!” 

“I mean it’s something. The sun does rise every morning.” 

“- But it’s not faith. Having faith in something is doing so with no evidence or background knowledge, just taking a step into the unknown with nothing but trust. That’s why it’s brave. All I do is look at facts, and proof.” 

“Have you been thinking about this a lot, big guy?” Ryan joked, but Shane’s face was no longer smiling. 

“What do you think happens when we die, Ryan. Really. What do you think happens?” 

“I mean, I’d like to think something nice. Believing in ghosts is kind my only optimistic quality, really, because I’m hoping that we don’t just... Die.” 

Shane nodded. “Imagine there’s no heaven,” he sang, in an almost whisper, and it gave Ryan goose bumps. 

The darkness settled over them again, and the only thing that didn’t make it eerie was the comforting sound of Shane’s breathing. Ryan wanted to say something, just for the sake of it, because he could talk to Shane for hours even if nothing they said made sense. But he knew he should probably let him sleep, as they would be flying again next morning. He enjoyed the peacefulness of it all, refusing to think about what might be lurking in the shadows. 

A floorboard creaked from outside the room. Ryan sat up, heart hammering. 

‘’It’s okay,’’ came Shane’s voice from next to him, groggy with almost-sleep. ‘’Everything’s fine, Ry,’’ 

Without thinking, Ryan reached out and slowly, ever so slowly, curled his finger around Shane’s pinkie. Ryan heard his breath hitch in his throat, and then Shane took Ryan’s whole hand in his. Neither of them said anything. 

Ryan’s shoulders slumped in content, and he fell back against the sleeping bag, Shane’s hand still clutched in his. 

// 

‘’Shane.’’ 

Shane opened his eye slightly. The last thing he remembered was falling asleep holding Ryan’s hand, something he had longed to do, and now Ryan was tugging frantically on his sleeve. ‘’What is it, little guy?’’ 

‘’There’s something outside.’’ 

The words sent shivers down his spine, but he knew he had to reassure Ryan that that wasn’t the case. 

‘’Ryan. Everything is fine. I promise.’’ Shane rolled over and turned on his phone. The bright light of the screen was blinding in the dark room. ‘’Its three in the morning, dude. Go back to sleep.’’ 

‘’No... no... you don’t understand. There’s something there. I saw it – I saw something, I don’t know, Shane, please-’’ 

Ryan stood up, shaking. He was still pointing at the doorway, and Shane could see the tremor in his finger. 

‘’Please, sit down, its nothing. You’re tired. Come on.’’ he tried to take Ryan’s hand again, but Ryan pushed it away. 

‘’No, I need to see what it was... I’ll be back in a second, let me get the camera.’’ 

Ryan rummaged around in his bag and then stumbled out of the room; camera clutched in his hand. 

‘’Ryan, it’s the middle of the night, it's dangerous-’’ Shane called after him, but Ryan had run away down the hall. 

Shane stood up and followed him, swearing lightly under his breath. He could hear Ryan’s heavy breathing and hurried footsteps which were loud against the wood and stone of the building. 

‘’Ryan?’’ Shane spun around, looking for him. He hadn’t thought to bring a torch. 

The asylum truly was a terrifying building. Ryan said that about everywhere they went on Supernatural, and Shane liked to tease him, of course, but there was nothing funny about the shadowy shapes that darted about in the corners of his eyes, even when Shane told himself that he was just imagining it. 

Ryan’s voice suddenly echoed through the obscurity. 

‘’SHANE! I SAW SOMETHING, SOMETHING WENT PAST ME-’’ 

He screamed then, a chilling scream, in a way that Shane didn’t think he’d ever have to hear, never wanted to hear. A different scream to getting a jumpscare, it was certain, and prolonged. The scream of someone who knew what was going to happen to them and didn’t like it. 

And then there was a crash. Everything in Shane’s body froze and the whole building seemed to quake. 

‘’RYAN!’’ 

Shane blundered through the corridor. His heart was hammering in his chest, his thoughts were racing around his head and Ryan’s name was on his lips like a prayer. A prayer to the god he didn’t believe in, that Ryan would be okay, and that this was a nightmare. 

‘’Ryan...’’ 

The corridor opened onto a landing, where a wooden banister led to nothing but stairs. A drop, all the way down to the first floor. Shane took a few steps and peered over. 

Ryan was lying on his back on the ground below, half hidden by darkness. His neck was broken. His limbs were stuck out at odd angles, and he didn’t seem to be moving. 

‘’No, no, no, no... no, no, Ryan...’’ 

The words had no meaning. They had no power; they couldn't do anything. Denying it didn’t bring him back to his feet. 

Shane almost tripped as he tore down the stairs. Tears were streaming down his face. They blurred his vision until he could barely see anything. 

When Shane reached Ryan’s body, he collapsed to his knees and sobbed, ugly, jarring sobs. 

‘’No, no, no, please no,’’ he fumbled for Ryans wrist, feeling for a pulse. 

There was nothing. 

Shane howled, an atavistic, animalistic howl and dug his nails into his face. He hoped that it would bleed. Tears were still flooding down his face, and he could taste salt in his mouth. There was blood on his hands too. Maybe it was his blood. Maybe he was dying too. He hoped he was dying. Then he wouldn’t have to feel anything anymore. God, he didn’t want to feel anything. His nerves became numb underneath his skin until the pulsing pain in his veins was all he felt. 

His phone was in his pocket, he pulled it out with trembling hands and called 911. 

‘’Hello? I – I need an ambulance. Please... Please come quick. My friend, he’s fallen over a balcony. Yes. A balcony. He’s not moving and he’s not breathing and... No, he doesn’t have a p-pulse. Please come.’’ Shane choked. ‘’I think he might be dead, and I think it’s my fault.’’ 

When the ambulance arrived, the medics had to pull Shane off Ryan’s body. They put a blanket over his shoulders and put a white sheet over Ryan’s face.  
Shane wanted to hold his hand, even though it was cold. He would never be able to hold his hand again, never be able to laugh and joke in the way they always did. 

He would never be able to tell Ryan how he really felt. 

// 

Ryan Bergara died. He didn’t come back. Shane knew, only too well, that when people died, they stayed dead. 

But half of Shane died too, that day, and it didn’t come back either. 

He cried for the weeks after, he cried all during the funeral, where people tried to comfort him with words that sounded like they’d been printed off a script. Shane realized that funerals were not for the dead, but for the living, who had to stay behind. 

The police questioned him, just in case, and they used the footage Ryan had caught as evidence. Shane forced himself to watch it. The screen showed what Ryan would have seen: a dark corridor, and then a gust of wind, and then the world fell upside down. No ghosts. Just wind, just enough to give Ryan a fright, and the utter unfortune of the banister being behind him. 

Shane started hyperventilating in the police station and he had to be escorted out. The police agreed that his death was not Shane’s fault, but Shane kept going back inside and telling them to arrest him, that it was his fault Ryan was dead. 

‘’I should have stopped him,’’ he sobbed, and no one knew how to respond because Shane was always so sure of himself. He never let his emotions get the better of him. Until now. 

Shane wasn’t arrested, but he sequestered himself in a prison of misery, where no one could reach him and where he could reach no one. 

The sandpaper of screams scraped against his throat as he was slowly ripped apart by what he could have said, should have said, before it was too late. He wanted to go back. He wanted to be dead. He wanted to be gone. Words could never describe the feeling. His clothes did nothing to hide the black veil that had settled over his skin. 

He learnt that one word is never enough. Not time, not love, not pain. That’s what grief was – nothing and everything. A paradox of healing and breaking and healing and breaking every second of every hour of every day until he could piece himself back together enough that he didn’t fall apart each time Ryan’s name was mentioned. 

Shane would stare at the sky, and wonder if there was something beyond there, a heaven, and he hoped that maybe Ryan would be staring back at him. But there was nothing but stars. He had once looked at the stars with awe and wonder, but now he knew that there was no love without loss. Because the sky is beautiful when you’re staring at it from below, but it gets tiring when you’re carrying it’s weight on your shoulders. 

// 

Six long months after Ryan had gone, Shane went back to the asylum. Time seemed to go by so slowly, and Shane felt every minute of it like it was a needle in his skin. 

The building looked the same as it did, and Shane had to talk himself into going in a few times. He almost didn’t. But then he remembered he had nothing to lose. 

He had already lost it all. 

Spirit box clutched in his hand, he paced through the halls, not quite daring to go where Ryan had fallen. Maybe he would be offered something that granted him peace, maybe he could speak to Ryan, tell him, finally, that he loved him in a way that extended more than friendship. 

He was willing to go back on everything he believed in, just to see his face again. 

He turned on the box, and was almost thankful of the deafening noise, because it distracted him from his thoughts. 

‘H-hello?’’ 

SKH-RTHJ-KJHSDF-XCDKJH-GHJK 

‘’Is there anyone here?’’ 

KJXSDQ-GFC-GHKGX 

He waited, listening helplessly to the static screams. He could distinguish nothing that sounded like words. 

‘’Please? Ryan? If you’re there? I just need...’’ his voice broke. ‘’I need you. Please. I need you. I miss you. And I know you’re not going to come back, fuck, I know I’m being ridiculous and I just... I miss you, Ry.’’ he tried not to cry again. 

‘’I love you. I loved you. I’m always going to love you. Even if I never see you again. I’ll love you if there's nothing after this life, like I always said, if we just die.’’ he sat down on the dust covered ground and put his head in hands. ‘’I’ll love you if there’s no heaven, and I’ll love you if there is... and I can see you again.’’ 

A single tear fell from his eye, slid down his long nose and dropped to the floor. Shane was surprised. He’d thought maybe he’d run out of tears to cry. Maybe he’d cry until he drowned if it meant he could see Ryan again. 

‘’I know I’m not making any sense. Fuck, nothing makes sense anymore. I thought I knew everything. I thought I’d felt everything it was possible to feel.’’ he turned the spirit box off and sat in silence. ‘’I was wrong, of course. You were always right. Even when everything was wrong, you made sense. And now you’re not here, and I...’’ 

Shane trailed off. He shut his eyes and wished more than anything that he would be wrong about ghosts too. Maybe he was being punished for not believing. Maybe his lack of faith in anything had caused him to be shown what it was like to be truly, truly unbelieving in the world. He didn’t want to believe in anything if it wasn’t Ryan. 

And then he heard a voice. 

It was barely more than a whisper, and Shane didn’t know where it was coming from, it seemed to be all around him. Maybe it was just in his head. Maybe he was just imagining. 

‘’It doesn’t matter if you don’t have faith in anything,’’ it said, and Shane flinched. It was only too familiar. ‘’I’ll still be here even if you don’t believe I am.’’ 

Shane swallowed the suffocating lump in his throat. ‘’R-Ryan?’’ 

‘’It doesn’t matter if you don’t have faith in anything,’’ the voice repeated, and Shane felt a rush of wind through the room. ‘’I have faith in you. I’ll believe enough for the both of us. Everything is going to be okay. I promise.’’ 

The voice seemed to fill the room, and yet was only barely discernible in the silence. 

‘’Is that you, Ryan?’’ Shane didn’t know how to feel. He just wanted to disappear. To escape. To be as ephemeral as the wind. ‘’Ry? Are you there?’’ 

There was silence again. And then, 

‘’Imagine there’s no heaven,’’ it sang, haunting and unearthly. 

‘If there’s no heaven,’’ Shane said, ‘’Where do we go?’’ 

Only the wind answered for a moment. Shane thought it had gone. 

‘’I didn’t go anywhere, Shane.’’ it said, so clear this time Shane whipped round, half expecting to see his best friend standing next to him with a grin on his face. But there was nothing, just the voice that he had longed to hear for too long. 

‘’I never left you.’’

**Author's Note:**

> I think I might do a bittersweet part two but let me know if you want that :')
> 
> Comments and kudos are always appreciated if you dont hate me too much.


End file.
